Fat, fat, fattie

Sunday, December 21, 2008 ~ 12 comments so far

I’m overweight. I know I’m overweight, I know what I need to do to lose weight but I remain, stubbornly and without willpower, overweight. I don’t like the fact any more than you probably like thinking about it but those are the facts as they stand at the moment, laydees and gennelmenn.

I am fat.

Looking around me I see that there are other fat people too. I know I’m not alone, just as I know that whilst I may be fat, I’m actually quite happy. Sure it annoys me that the person I see in the mirror doesn’t match my mental self-image (ONE day someone with a swimmer’s body will stare back… yeah right..) but I’ve long since made my peace with how I look.

I can’t speak for others on this issue, but I know that being overweight isn’t just a matter of being too lazy to exercise and too weak to have enough self control (they are factors, don’t get me wrong). Some people genuinely do have physiological and psychological factors that affect their weight.

I don’t. I’m just fat. Like most of the other fatties out there.

So, given that there is a reasonable percentage of fat people out there (and only now, dear reader, am I finally warming to the reason behind this post) why is it so hard to buy clothes.

I just typed “so hard to big clothes…”, not quite freudian but close, no?

I’ve mentioned before that I’m picky. The phrase I tend to use is that “I know what I like” or more accurately I’d flip that around and echo what someone, who was probably famous for his wit and candour, once said “No, not that, that’s fuckin’ hideous”.

I don’t actually mind that in some shops I’m an XL, in others an XXL for, unless I’m buying a cheap shirt (for work) from Primark or Asda, I always try the clothes on in the shop first.

And so it was on Thursday night I found myself coveting a rather nice shirt in River Island. I’d already been in most of the usual high-street haunts to be confronted only with dark shirts with garish stripes (which are increasingly common and thus, increasingly against my thinking (yes I’m a snob, bite me)), or high-contrast checked ‘slim fit’ style shirts, with buttons and flaps and… ohh fuck that I’m not 17. I get the style, the fashion, don’t get me wrong. It’s just not me.

Of course River Island didn’t have the shirt in XL. I tried on the L to no avail (it buttoned but would require the abstaining from any form of seated activity whatsoever) and was a bit miffed.

Across the road (technically across the concourse I guess as we were in Silverburn shopping centre – a place with an excellent parking system which I’ll tell you about another time) to Suits You and once again I locate another shirt which I would deem worthy of a place in my wardrobe and further to hang on my manly, but fat, frame.

Guess what. The XL didn’t fit and they didn’t have any XXL in stock. Of course they didn’t.

So, having tried 7 different shops, ranging from £15 to £50 and beyond, I found two shirts which I would have bought had but they had the right size.

This is why I don’t like shopping for clothes. Two and a bit hours (not counting stopping off at a second River Island on the way home, same result) of being constantly reminded that I’m fat. It’s really not very nice.

And what I still don’t get is why there is NEVER enough stock of these sizes. If I was an L, M, S, or even (in one store) an XS, I am spoilt for choice (fashion decisions aside). But not so the XL and above.

I’m waffling now so I’ll close with another quote that was once, possibly, uttered by someone famous (possibly the Queen) after yet another day of disappointment on the polo field.

“Meh”.

A Message for Obama (pt. 2)

Friday, December 19, 2008 ~ 2 comments so far

In early November I took a photo of myself holding a short message for the ‘soon to be President’ Barack Obama. It was as part of a Flickr group which I thought was a nice idea and which seemed to capture the mood at the time. I mentioned it here and, to be honest, thought nothing of it until I received an email from Meg who was heading up the project to compile some of the photos into a book (modesty prevents me from suggesting the chose the best photos), who asked if I’d mind if they (The Guardian) included my photo in their book.

Of course not!

I received my copy of said book yesterday and, whilst I realise it is close to Xmas, it would make an excellent stocking filler/coffee table book and you get double karma points as all the Guardian’s profits from the sale of the book will go to the Katine development project.

And don’t worry, it’s not JUST my ugly mug that adorns the pages.

Once upon a story

Wednesday, December 17, 2008 ~ 1 comment so far

I’m boring myself with this blog now. Not the act of writing posts for it but the act of writing posts ABOUT it. So I’ll stop. Thanks for the thoughts and comments though. You really DID help. Yes. You.

I’ve been trawling through some draft post ideas, scribbles and ill conceived stories and figured that, as a means to an end, I’d be as well posting them here. No, I’m not sure what end this would be the means of but let’s not dwell on that.

I have quite a few rambling beginnings of stories, borne from my love of words and cadence, which will never amount to anything more than a few paragraphs. The following is one such example. Your thoughts, comments, hysterical laughter and mirth, are all welcomed.

The average man
He wanders through the streets, past the gentle glow of the houses, under dark and slanting drizzle. He has no purpose, no destination, and can barely remember where he started but this is all he knows, this is his life, his motion. He hunches forwards as another car drives past, plucking the droplets clustering on the edge of his hood and shining them like jewels.

His motion is fluid and organic as he ambles over the pavements, lightly stepping on cobbles and kerbs. He has been here before, he knows, been round this place more than once. He knows it well, too well perhaps, but like an old friend he enjoys the comfort it brings, the familiarity that makes it all too easy to slip into this place one more time.

A break in the clouds above and spears of light arrow down and smash into puddles. He pauses, splashed by scattered light, bathing in the warm glow of the rain, capturing every detail that he can. Processing them quickly in a vain hope of capture, knowing that few will remain with him but one or two will penetrate deeply enough to stick. Moments of beauty to add to the collection, fractured and precious he holds them dear. The very phrase echoes of her.

Almost as soon as they part the clouds start again to weave together, a blanket of gloom restored, drenching all beneath it.

Off he goes once more, without direction. Something that is neither required nor sought, instead he trusts he will find his own way. He has been lost before and found his way back.

The streets are quieter now and he fills his head with sound, pulling memories of pain and pleasure (never pleasure and pain) to keep him on track. Other times his head remains empty with nothing but the dull echo of his thoughts to keep him company.

Ye olde blog

Tuesday, December 16, 2008 ~ 7 comments so far

OK, perhaps if I head back to some previous “unblocking” techniques I might be able to kick start my blogging mojo.

Remember when Referrer Searches were all the rage? Back when we all suddenly discovered that our blogs were being indexed by something called “Google” (weird name…) and that meant we could see how people came to find our blogs? Those were the days, eh!!

So, aprop… ohh I’ve done that…

So, without further ado here are the top 12 search referrals (slightly filtered):

1. gordon mclean
2. itunes stuttering
3. my mother is an idiot
4. how to make a cup of tea
5. how to kung fu withdraw testicles
6. jamie bulger email
7. 37signals apps
8. monitor rss start torrent
9. recipes for chicken with red pesto
10. one mans blog.com
11. voyeuer nature
12. mrmen

To be fair, there are multiple variations on “red pesto chicken“, as well as “iTunes stutter“, and “how to make tea” but they fail to knock a good old ego search off the top of the list. And no, it’s not me googling myself… honest.

I should also apologise, again, to my mother for calling her an idiot, and I should point out that I no longer use ANY of the 37signals apps that I seemed to be so bothered about last year.

And, finally, I have NO idea how to “kung fu withdraw testicles” but it sure sounds like something that would come in handy… at some point… if my testicles were under threat I mean…

I think I’ll stop there.

Now, what should I do for my next post?

Apropos of… something..

Saturday, December 13, 2008 ~ 9 comments so far

I am not out shopping today. Mainly because I do most of my shopping online. That and the fact that we have a night out tonight and Louise is already off out to get her hair done so I’m stuck in the house unless I fancy walking…

This moment I’m sitting on the sofa, the TV is tuned to… some food channel it seems… and there is a fresh pot of coffee gurgling away in the kitchen. I’m wondering what to have for lunch, but might wait until later as I slept in so still not that hungry.

I’ve checked my email, updated Twitter, purchased a new app for my iPhone (Speed Dial, going cheap today, looks great) and a soaking wet cat has just come in so I’d better finish this and go dry him with a big fluffy towel.

I say all of this as it seems I’m projecting a version of me here that isn’t really me. I’m not a nasty person who shouts at women pushing their babies in prams. I did it once, felt bad for it and recounted the tale here with a view to pitch it as something that wasn’t very nice but was possibly a little funny in a dark kinda way that maybe others would relate to.

I’ve said this before, so let me repeat. I am not this blog. I am not the person you’ve met in the pub once or twice. But I’ve said this before, quite recently.

Perhaps I’ll stop blogging about me. Perhaps, as I’ve changed, I need to change what I write here. Perhaps the coming year will be different. This blog has changed over the past year, and will, of course, continue to change in the future. However, this is the first time that I’ve been aware of the change myself. It doesn’t feel natural, it feels forced, and that means that it’s no longer just a fun hobby, it’s now, whilst not a chore, certainly something that I have to think twice about.

I’m not entirely sure, but this has been building for a while so, I guess, consider yourself forewarned. This blog is changing…. somehow… for some reason… roll on 2009?

Shopping mode activated

Thursday, December 11, 2008 ~ 9 comments so far

No, not online.

In real life.

With all the mentals.

The fear is already starting to build, deep in the pit of my stomach, a dull nervousness that refuses to leave. Soon I will be out there, blinded by the glare, dazzled by the tinsel and fairy lights and surrounded by a throng of buffoons.

I’m not sure if that is the correct collective term, and frankly I’m still not sure why there are so many of the buggers wandering about the shopping centre. Shouldn’t they be… I dunno… in Africa? Gibraltar?

I have developed tactics to deal with such occasions (they are rare), one of which is to constantly remind myself that you only need an IQ of 23 to be able to breathe and walk. Not that I think everyone is an idiot, far from it, there will be many people who are far worse.

However there will always be a smattering of the usual culprits around. You know them I’m sure, the random changers of direction, those who block the stairs to chat to their mates, and the worst of all the sudden stoppers. Such are the selfish, thoughtless morons.

I usually cope by taking many deep breaths and being efficient, getting in and out as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, one time, I cracked.

It was several years ago and we were in Milton Keynes shopping centre. If you don’t know it, it’s a large shopping centre that is, essentially, a couple of big long ‘streets’. Not sure of the size but you can probably see for about half a mile in either direction.

It’s very busy and as we leave a shop we turn left and start walking to the next planned shop. About 100 metres away is a woman. She is walking towards us pushing a buggy. Whilst she is walking she is bent over, talking to the baby in the chair. Obviously she must own this part of the shopping centre and it is I who is trespassing… right?

Regardless we both continue to walk towards each other, a collision on the cards, closer with every step. I’m slowly counting to 10, waiting for her to lift her head and see me.

About 4 metres short I finally crack, stop dead in my tracks and say, firmly, politely and loudly,

“EXCUSE ME!!”

The woman jerks to a halt, stands bolt upright and stares at me, her mouth flaps open, then shuts again. I can see she wants to say something but, wisely, she doesn’t.

I glare back and stride off past her, muttering and seething.

Gosh, I’m really looking forward to going shopping.

The festive period

Tuesday, December 9, 2008 ~ 2 comments so far

December the 24th is Christmas Eve. I mention this not as a startling revelation but because it’s the first of eleven days that I have off work. So if I discount the 25th and 26th of December, as well as the 1st of January as I’m Scottish and by law we are not allowed to go to sleep until at least 4am on New Year’s Day, I have approximately 8 days or so with nothing planned.

That will, of course, change.

I reckon, if I’m generous with my estimates, I’ll have five or six days to myself. I’ll say five just to be on the safe side.

That’s five whole days in which I can, within reason, do what I want. Watch some old movies, play some games, read a book, generally chill out. That kind of thing. Five days is a lot of time, so let’s presume I do some chores around the house as well, a little decorating or general DIY bodgery.

Yes, I could get a lot done in five days and I have to admit I’m looking forward to the time off as it’s been manic these past few weeks and whilst it’s probably partly because the holiday is getting closer, I’m definitely feeling a little ‘punchy’. Yes, five days is plenty to recharge the batteries all the better to start the new year afresh.

Except we all know what’ll happen.

Person X will decide to pop over and that’ll turn into dinner, which’ll turn into tidying up, shopping for food, preparation, entertaining and finally punting them out the door sometime before midnight.

Person Y will suggest that we could go out for a meal and a movie, which’ll turn into a late afternoon meal, a movie, then drinks and we’ll get home sometime after midnight.

Person Z will phone and ask us over for dinner, or just to see if we are going to visit and that’ll turn into “well if we are seeing Z, we could go and see Y and if we are seeing Y we are as well staying over with X” which means that we’ll need to prepare, pack an overnight bag and leave early morning, getting home sometime later the next day.

And before you know it it’s Sunday the 4th of January, 2009, I’m back to work the next day and I’ve not done anything that I’d hoped to do and I’m probably more stressed than I was on Christmas Eve.

It’s the same every year.

So, this year, I’m not planning to do nothing, and I’m not planning to do everything, instead I’m expecting to be busy most days and to make the most of the moments inbetween.

P.S. Persons X, Y and Z are interchangeable and do not, in any way, correlate with members of my family (immediate or otherwise) or any of my friends. Honest.